


When The Cat Gets The Cream

by AngelicMissPretty



Category: Borderlands
Genre: (well maybe a little plot), AU where Rhys is Jack's PA, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Cat Ears, Collars, Desk Sex, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Leashes, M/M, PWP, Pet Names, Petplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 15:03:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5789980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelicMissPretty/pseuds/AngelicMissPretty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot in which Rhys buys Jack a smartphone, and Jack uses said smartphone to deliver a petplay kit to Rhys' apartment.</p>
<p>~PWP gift for Marichan~</p>
            </blockquote>





	When The Cat Gets The Cream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MariPockiiChan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariPockiiChan/gifts).



> ❤ PETPLAY PORN FOR THE MAIN SINNER MARI IN RETURN FOR HER ~LOVELY~ JACK-WITH-A-DICK-PIERCING FIC ❤
> 
> ; 3 ; This took way longer to write than it should've, but what'cha gonna do. ❤ I hope y'all enjoy!!! 
> 
> (by the way, I have a throat infection rn so this was written while I'm doped up on painkillers. sorry if it's an incomprehensible mess ❤)

There were a lot of things that Handsome Jack did that were – for lack of a better term – unorthodox. Sure, mass-murder wasn’t exactly considered the pinnacle of social normality, and neither was strangling or air-locking your employees for forgetting that you take _two and a quarter teaspoons of sugar in your decaf soy mocha-latte, not three_ , but something about the tyrannical insanity of the solar-system’s most powerful corporation’s CEO just seemed to work. Business-wise, anyway.

When it came to running a company, Handsome Jack’s unconventional methods were, confusingly, very effective. Rhys could understand Jack’s motives for the most part; why go through all the paperwork of firing someone when you could just wrap your hands around their neck and call it a day?

It was a good system. It was a system that worked.

What Rhys couldn’t understand, however, was _how the fuck_ Jack had lived this long without a _fucking mobile phone._ According to the neurotically anxious lady who sat at the CEO’s reception desk called Meg, who seemed to have developed a nervous twitch in her eye as she spoke and lived entirely off of caffeine pills, Jack had been calling people via his echo-comm since the first day he rose to Hyperion presidency. Naturally, the looming threat of unleashing one of Jack’s temper tantrums had effectively stopped anyone from suggesting that he changed his ways in favour of something newer.

However, Rhys knew exactly how to talk to Jack without triggering a hissy fit, so buying him a smartphone wasn’t much of a big deal. The brunette had only known the CEO a couple of months, but to say the two clicked would be an understatement.

For example, when Rhys had first crossed paths with the merciless dictator of Pandora, it’d been on the Requisitions floor. Rhys was carrying a stack of papers so high he couldn’t see where he was going, and Jack – who just so happened to be carrying a large mug of coffee at the time – walked straight into him.

Jack dropped the mug on the floor, and it shattered. Said mug’s contents then proceeded to spill on the twelve weeks’ worth of handwritten, not-yet-photocopied reports Rhys was carrying. Rhys got away from the catastrophe without so much as a slap on the wrist.

After that fatal meeting, Jack had made it his personal mission to find Rhys’ office block and woo the brunette into getting into his pants. Once Rhys had witnessed Jack’s flirting technique, the older man had fallen from ‘untouchable idol’ to ‘complete dork’.

Not that Rhys wouldn’t have it any other way.

He was surprised people hadn’t started calling him the Jack-whisperer.

Even so, about a week in, Rhys had already chalked up _Plan: Make-Jack’s-Life-Easier-By-Buying-Him-A-Phone_ as a complete failure.

“Rhysie, I forgot which button it is to get back to the menu thing.”

“Oh, Christ.”

In what Jack had filed as a ‘temporary employee workstation transition’, he’d managed to move Rhys out of R&D for an ‘indefinite period’ so he could act as the CEO’s ‘personal phone-assistor’ (or ‘PPA’, as it now said on Rhys’ payroll). Of course, Rhys had automatically presumed that Jack had come up with some bullshit excuse to make it easier for them to fuck during work hours without having to wait for Rhys to travel fourteen floors every time Jack booty-called.

His presumption was wrong.

Turns out Jack literally just wanted his help with his phone.

“How d’you open the camera again, babe?” Jack questioned, staring at his phone’s screen in contempt, sat at his desk with his elbows on the table as Rhys sat beside him on the armrest.

“You just need to press the-”

Jack’s thumb swiped over the screen, and opened up the messenger.

Rhys felt the need to slap his palm against his forehead. Teaching Jack to use technology was like torture. Or watching paint dry. Or ironing a shirt with a rolling pin.

A fruitless effort.

“Aw, shit, what’d I just do?”

Rhys rolled his head back, drawing a hand up to rest on the nape of his neck as he watched Jack look upon the phone in utter disdain.

“You opened the texting app. If you wanna take a picture, you have to-”

“Wait, wait, lemme send you a text.” Jack cut the brunette off, looking over his shoulder with a quirked eyebrow and a smirk, which Rhys could only imagine spelled something very good or something very bad.

Idly, Rhys’ mind wondered back to the last time Jack had given him a look like that; last week, in the middle of a frustratingly uninteresting conference about robotics internships. The meeting had ended, and Jack wasted no time in grabbing Rhys by the shirt and throwing him into one of Helios’ restrooms, slamming him against the cool metallic tile and-

“Go away, Rhysie. Don’t look at what I’m typing, it’s a _surprise_.”

Rhys rolled his eyes, making a lacklustre sound of defiance in the back of his throat before standing up from his perch beside the older man, taking a few steps away from the desk. Seconds later, Rhys felt the familiar buzz resonate from his slacks’ pocket.

Pulling his phone up to his face, a message notification from ‘Handsome Dickbag’ appeared on the screen. It read: _wanna fuck? Xx_

Eh, he’d received worse texts in his life.

…

It was a Tuesday night – a typical Tuesday night, at that – and Rhys had just stepped out of a nice, hot, well-deserved shower when some _asshole_ decided to ring the doorbell. The high-pitched tune reverberated through the thin walls of his and Vaughn’s very crappy and untidy (even for Helios’ standards) shared apartment. The company man grimaced, halfway through towel-drying his hair. Wrapping the towel around his waist and stepping out of his room a little into the hallway, Rhys called out for his friend to answer the door.

“Vaughn, would you get that? I literally just stepped out of the shower.”

There was a groan from the living-room, which Rhys understood to be a reluctant ‘yes, okay, I’ll get it’ from Vaughn. Closing his bedroom door, Rhys got back to work on towelling himself off, throwing on a loose t-shirt and some grey tracksuit pants (which the brunette recognised as one of the few outfits Jack had left after some memorable nights in Rhys’ bed). Rhys reached for a comb on his dresser, brushing through the tangles in his still-wet amber hair as he listened to the door opening, and a muffled conversation taking place.

“Bro?” Vaughn called from the end of the hallway. “It’s, uh, for you.”

Rhys subconsciously pulled face of confusion at himself in the mirror. “What? Who is it?”

“Delivery guy. Says you need to sign something.” The accountant called back.

“Tell him he’s got the wrong person. I didn’t order anything.”

“Well, it literally says ‘Rhys’ on it, bro.”

“Ugh.” Rhys sighed to himself, throwing his comb haphazardly back to where it belonged, completely unimpressed that he had to come out of his room. Trotting down the hall, Rhys saw Vaughn swaying awkwardly as the delivery man stood silently in the doorway.

“Sign here.” The man instructed, and Rhys put on the most civil smile he could muster after a day of work, dropping into a grumble the second the door was shut.

Rhys looked at the cardboard box blankly, shaking it to hear the contents rattle a little.

“You seriously didn’t order anything?” Vaughn pondered, looking at the package as well.

“Yep.” The brunette replied. “It’s definitely for someone else. They probably messed up the names or something. Might be for next door? I dunno.”

“Meh. Might as well open it.” The accountant deadpanned, losing interest rapidly in the contents of the mystery box. Rhys pulled the cardboard back, a huge note with a love-heart on it stuck to the top of the item’s actual packaging.

_For my pretty little kitten. Love, Handsome Jack <3_

…

Jack groaned, popping the muscles in his back and shoulders into place as he reclined against his yellow leather desk-chair as he propped his legs up on the table in front of him. Jack’s body ached from the stress of a frankly _horrible_ work day – he really needed a backrub. Jack cracked his fingers loudly, impatiently waiting for the dopamine injectors in his chair to kick in and do their damn job.

Nothing on this space station seemed to work as it was supposed to. As if it were testament to that thought, Jack’s computer pinged with an email detailing how the head of gun design had been put out of commission after some idiot decided it’d be innovative to put elemental bullets in a non-elemental semiautomatic shotgun.

_Great_.

What Jack needed right now was a body; soft, warm flesh full of adoration and lust, gripping onto him and letting him _take_ all he wanted, sloppy kisses, and bites that’d leave tooth-marks and bruises. He needed someone under him, to let him take control, to treat Jack like a _king_.

What Jack needed right now was _Rhys_. That kid was a damn good fuck, and there’d been no chance to have some fun with him the entire day – he’d been out of the office sorting out a business rep, and Jack had been backlogged with meetings.

Jack reached for his phone, trying to hit the tiny numbers of his passcode with his large fingers before opening his address book and scrolling down to _R_.

That was, of course, the moment that Rhys came barging into his office in his pyjamas, a look of absolute abhorrence on his face as he marched up the stairs to Jack, a cardboard box in one hand and a note in the other.

“Jack!” The brunette nearly screamed, face red in anger and embarrassment, features contorted into a scowl.

Jack grinned, standing up from his chair with his arms open, amusedly watching the furious scene in front of him unfold. “Rhysie! My little buttercup princess, how are you?”

“You fucking dick-wad!” Rhys fumed, lobbing the love-heart note in Jack’s direction.

“Well, well, someone’s in a bad mood-”

“Why the fuck,” the younger man interrupted, lowering his voice so much it was almost a whisper, dripping venom as he dropped the box onto Jack’s desk, “did _this_ show up on my doorstep?!”

“Oh, that!” Jack laughed, picking up the box and popping the lid open to check its contents idly.

“I think my roommate nearly had an aneurism!” Rhys exploded, his voice high-pitched and agitated, more intent on scolding the CEO than listening to his words. “Your jokes are so shit, Jack.”

Jack quirked an eyebrow, his Cheshire-like grin still painted across his face as he reached into the box, pulling out a brown cat headband. “Jokes? Who said anything about jokes?”

Rhys watched in horror as Jack laid the rest of box’s items out on his desk; a collar and leash, a ball gag, a butt plug, and a pair of fuzzy handcuffs.

“Oh, you’re not being serious.”

“Papa had a stressful day, kitten.”

“Nope.” Rhys shook his head, crinkling up his nose and laughing sarcastically, a small, pink blush spreading across his nose. “Nope, nope, nope. Not doing that.”

“Come on!” Jack begged teasingly, offering Rhys the headband, who tentatively picked it up and ran his fingers across the soft material. “For me?”

Rhys shook his head again, tearing his attention away from the cat ears in his hand. “God, Jack. Where did you even _find_ something like this?!”

“Internet.” The older man deadpanned. “Ordered it off my phone.”

Rhys tutted, scratching the back of his neck.

“You’d be so cute as a little kitty, Rhys, and it’s been such a long day.”

Spurred on by Jack’s words, the brunette placed the headband on top of his head, swallowing his pride in favour of being obedient to his boss’s words. “Would you like me to turn your bad day into a good one, master?”

“Hey, that’s the stuff.” Jack smirked, circling his desk around to Rhys, grabbing the baby-pink leather choker as he did so. “Good boy. Now, strip.”

Rhys whined quietly as he fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt before pulling it over his head and throwing it to the floor in a messy heap, eyeing the faint outline of Jack’s cock in his trousers. The company man slowly pulled his tracksuit pants down from his lithe hips, and the hungry look of appreciation Jack gave him was enough to make his own erection twitch.

Jack wrapped one of his hands around Rhys’ neck, squeezing slightly. The younger man involuntarily leaned into the touch, moaning as Jack’s thumb grazed his adam’s apple. The sensation of warm hands against his neck didn’t last long, however, as Jack clasped the strap of leather against his flesh instead, yanking it tightly.

“R-really? A collar?” Rhys questioned, voice raspy.

Jack yanked harder again, tightening the collar just loose enough so Rhys could still breathe, hitting the little bell at the front of the collar with his finger affectionately before reaching back over to his desk and attaching the matching pink leash to Rhys’ throat. “They all gotta know who you belong to.”

Jack pulled on the leash, and Rhys’ knees buckled, throwing him to the floor in front of the older man’s bulging crotch.

“Ah…” Rhys mewled, looking up at Jack with his tongue out, breathing shallowly, pawing at Jack’s clothed, strong thighs wordlessly.

“Oh, _yeah_.” Jack mused, ruffling Rhys’ amber hair with one hand, titling his chin up lovingly with the other. “That’s a good look, kitten.”

“You want kitten to suck, master?” Rhys asked, almost innocently. Jack replied by looking down at his PA darkly, refusing to break eye contact as he undid his belt and trousers, pulling his thick, hard erection out of his boxers and stroking it with his palm.

Rhys opened his mouth as he shifted closer to the older man, darting his tongue out to lick at the tip of Jack’s dick lightly. The brunette mewled as Jack slowly moved his hips forward, pressing past Rhys’ warm, welcoming lips.

“Who’s a good little kitty?” The CEO praised, carding his fingers through Rhys’ hair. “You are, Rhysie.”

“Mm…” The brunette moaned, only able to hum because his mouth was so full, drawing one of his hands over to the base of Jack’s shaft, gently pumping where his mouth couldn’t reach, as he drew the other hand over to take care of Jack’s balls.

Jack exhaled, relaxing into his PA’s ministrations, watching intently as the younger man took inch after inch past his lips. “You’re good with your mouth, kitten.”

Rhys whined deeply as he felt the tip of Jack’s cock brush the back of his throat, pulsating at heavy with arousal. Rhys felt his own erection twitch, glowing with pride as Jack whispered groans of praise when he hollowed his cheeks and bobbed his head.

The younger man was ready – _so ready_ – to feel the hot sensation of Jack’s thick cum sliding down his throat. Rhys opened his mouth wider, dragging his teeth against the older man’s dick lightly in hopes that he’d reach his climax, but much to Rhys’ dismay, the CEO leaned away from him mouth, pulling out his erection with a pop.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jack warned, “kitties have sharp teeth.”

Rhys reached forwards to his boss’s hips desperately, seeking the pleasure of Jack’s cock again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Sorry won’t cut it, cupcake.” The CEO scolded, pulling Rhys back onto his feet harshly with a yank of his leash before shoving him face-down onto the desk, spreading his legs. “Kittens who bite their masters are just _begging_ to be punished.”

“N-no, master, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” Rhys whimpered, tensing up as he felt Jack’s hand grab a handful of his ass, “I’ll be good, d-don’t punish me!”

Jack chuckled darkly, bringing his hand upwards before sharply smacking the flesh beneath him, leaving a large, pinkish red hand-print. Rhys squealed, bucking up involuntarily into the harsh touch, feeling Jack’s piercing eyes on him.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll be a good kitty!” The younger man pleaded, a scream tearing from his throat as Jack spanked him again and again.

“So vocal today? Let’s fix that.” Jack said, grabbing the ball gag from the side of Rhys before leaning over his PA to force his mouth open by pulling at his leash again, strapping the restraint into his mouth. Rhys immediately reached for it out of natural instinct, but his small hands were caught midway – Jacked pinned them to his back with one hand while he picked up the handcuffs with the other, clicking them into place once they were around Rhys’ wrists.

“Now, be a good kitty and let me think.” Jack pondered out loud, slowly walking around his desk to inspect Rhys – who was laid there on his desk, legs spread and ass red – from every angle. As Jack got behind his desk, he pulled open a drawer, dangling a bottle of lube in front of Rhys’ face. “Do I prep you, or do I fuck your little asshole dry?”

“Mm!” Rhys whined wordlessly, his words caught by the muzzle across his lips.

“What’s that? Couldn’t quite catch what you’re saying. Did you say no to the lube?” Jack teased, and Rhys shook his head frantically, tears welling at the corners of his eyes.

“Ah, got ‘cha.” The older man smirked, pouring a generous amount of lube onto his palm before stroking himself, spreading the cool liquid across his aching erection, making sure Rhys could see just how hard he was. “How’s this?”

Rhys whined again as Jack circled back round behind him, mewls of arousal erupting in his throat as he opened his legs wider for the older man. He felt Jack press the tip of his slicked cock against his hole, and Rhys moaned in euphoria, ready for his master’s erection to be inside of him.

“Wait.” Jack instructed, and Rhys stilled, leaning yearningly into Jack’s chest as the older man leaned over him, trailing light kisses against his shoulder and up his neck, until his mouth was next to Rhys’ ear. “You want me, don’t you? I don’t want to hurt you, kitten. You alright with the restraints?”

Rhys heart melted as he nodded, and Jack scratched lovingly at the back of his head. “How’re you supposed to tell me if it’s too much, hm?”

The brunette nuzzled the side of Jack’s face, brushing his leg against Jack’s a little forcefully in a silent reply, and Jack seemed to get the message.

“Alright then, beautiful. You can kick ol’ Jack if he hurts you, alright?”

Rhys giggled, breaking into a throaty moan as Jack moved forward to press his tip against his PA’s hole again, milky thighs quivering and awaiting contact. The older man gripped onto Rhys’ hips, still towering over the younger man, imposing and intimidating and dominant; just how Rhys liked it.

Deliberately slowly, Jack pushed his hard erection into Rhys, who groaned audaciously in response, writhing around on the smooth wetness of the lube, trying his best to push himself apart even wider. Jack’s skin was hot, but the slick liquid on his dick was cool, and Rhys’ body shook, glistening with sweat and shameless need.

Jack took Rhys’ reply as incentive to continue, pushing in all the way. Rhys’ toes curled as he tried relentlessly to lean further into the warmth of Jack’s chest.

“Look at you, kitten.” The older man sighed, running his hands across the pale, baby-soft skin of Rhys’ back, digging a finger into the side of his collar to tug at it. Rhys mewled softly, plunging his hips to take more of Jack in, but the CEO stilled him, stealing a kiss from the back of Rhys’ nape. “Shush, now, Rhysie. Let master take care of you.”

Jack’s words dripped over Rhys like honey, and the brunette gasped as Jack began to thrust slowly but deeply into him. The younger man couldn’t help the way his body rolled itself back, meeting the gradually quickening thrusts, impaling himself on the large column of flesh as much as his tight hole would let him.

Rhythmic thrusts turned shallow and frantic as the two men stole themselves in the pleasure. Rhys’ eyelids squeezed shut as a tear rolled out from his brown eye, trickling down his chin as he bucked into his boss, rolling his hips to angle himself into a position where Jack would hit that one, sweet spot inside him.

Realising how close his PA was to finishing, Jack ran his hand around the younger man’s front, cupping his dick with his fingers. The CEO swirled his thumb around Rhys’ head, smearing the small beads of precum around and pressing forcefully.

Rhys came with a low, guttural, almost animalistic moan, spilling his seed over Jack’s knuckles. It took Jack a few more shallow thrusts to cum too, thick ribbons exploding from the tip of his cock into Rhys’ pert ass. The older man rode out his orgasm loudly, groaning as he came to a halt.

“Oh, Rhys.” Jack praised as he pulled out of his PA slowly, growling as a drop of cum dribbled out of Rhys’ hole. The CEO pressed a finger to Rhys’ entrance, reaching to his desk again for another toy.

“Master’s cum has to stay inside of you.” Jack instructed, pressing the pink butt-plug against the younger man’s abused hole, listening to the spent murmurs that passed Rhys’ gag. Rhys squeaked, completely full as Jack unlocked the cuffs on his wrists.

The younger man reflexively ran his cybernetic fingers over his flesh wrist, and Jack set to work on his muzzle.

“That was good, wasn’t it, kitten?” Jack asked with a smirk, already knowing the answer as the clasp on Rhys’ gag was taken off, and drool pooled from his lips as he spluttered, still laid exhaustedly against the hard, unforgiving wood of Jack’s desk.

“Jack…” Rhys breathed as the CEO took a handful of the sensitive flesh on Rhys’ ass, smacking it lightly once more before ushering Rhys off the table gently.

Jack walked to his chair as Rhys followed him, quivering and barely able to walk.

“Lap.” The older man commanded, patting his thigh, and Rhys hooked his leg over Jack’s hip obediently, nuzzling into Jack’s neck.

“Maybe I should buy another one of those sets, kitten.” Jack mused as Rhys’ breathing slowed, sleepy and worn out. “You’d make one hell of a naughty bunny.”

“Jack."

“What?”

“You’re a kinky asshole.”

“Oh, I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> drop me an ask at http://supermagically.tumblr.com/ if you'd like!!


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